


just look at me the same

by huffleppunk



Category: Adventure Time
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Hunson Abadeer's A+ Parenting, Idiots in Love, Mutual Pining, Pining, Tropes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-11
Updated: 2020-06-11
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:47:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24477433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/huffleppunk/pseuds/huffleppunk
Summary: Marceline felt stupid.Very very stupid.She also regretted every single choice that led her to asking her best friend — whom she was very infatuated with — to be her fake girlfriend. On a dinner. With her father — who still didn't believe she was gay.She was living a nightmare.or: Hunson Abadeer is very persistent, Marceline is not good under pressure and Bonnibel just happens to be the first person on her mind.
Relationships: Jake the Dog & Marceline, Jake the Dog/Lady Rainicorn, Princess Bubblegum & Finn the Human, Princess Bubblegum & Jake the Dog, Princess Bubblegum & Lady Rainicorn, Princess Bubblegum & Marceline, Princess Bubblegum/Marceline
Comments: 26
Kudos: 155





	1. tell me something nice

**Author's Note:**

> Hello again! This fic is the result of me being petty - and also my inconformity towards the lack of fake relationship fics with Bubbline. I'll say those were surprisingly good motivators for my creativity, and I'm glad with the result!
> 
> The title obviously comes from the girl in red's song "I wanna be your girlfriend", and I thought it would be fitting.
> 
> Hope you enjoy this fic as much as I did!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marceline is incredibly bad under pressure, and that leaves her in dire need of a fake girlfriend.

Marceline felt stupid.

Very, very stupid.

She absolutely regretted every single choice that led her to that moment. She regretted tripping on the first day of high school and stumbling over a pretty girl with light pink hair. Regretted helping her pick up her scattered books from the ground. Regretted moving her eyes from the delicate, manicured hands — the color of the nails a sparkling rosé, so different from her own solid black — to the blue eyes that almost made her swoon. Regretted offering her hand and an apology, and finding out they were in the same grade. Regretted sitting down next to her in class, becoming her best friend, and dreaming of being more than just that.

It all boiled down to that moment.

She sat down on the bed as always, albeit horrified at every squeak caused by her weight, the soft patterned pillow she held — the design of bats denounced the fact that it had been a gift of hers that was ever present, even though it clashed with the rest of the room — serving no comfort as she spoke, quickly, in only one breath.

— I need you to pretend to be my girlfriend.

She saw the way her friends brows slowly furrowed as she bit her lip in confusion.

— I'm sorry? — Was all Bonnie was able to muster, still unsure if what she had heard was correct.

Marceline played with the hem of her plaid shirt, suddenly finding a spot on the otherwise immaculate floor of her friend's bedroom very interesting. The heat that crossed her face felt very accusing, and she feared that even in her dark skin the blush was showing, her face hidden as it was behind the short strands of her dark hair. She was ready to stand up and get out of her friend's house. Ready to lock herself in her own bedroom and never leave, but as she made the slightest motion to leave, she felt a hand on hers, the warmth was reassuring.

— Hey, where are you going?

Her voice was calm as ever, and Marcy allowed her insecurities to melt, barely enough for them to stop clouding her thoughts.

— I'm just... puzzled, honestly. Maybe you could actually explain what's going on instead of running away? — The tone was playful, her round glasses reflected the light coming from the window, and that was definitely something she could handle. Her mouth curved in a smile that would be imperceptible for someone that wasn't as acquainted to the nuances of her emotions as the pink-haired girl was.

She was unsure where to start the convoluted story from, and after giving it some thought, she went on.

— So, you know my dad is always trying to set me up with a any son of his friends that is even near my age? — She said with a huff. Bonnie nodded sympathetically. — Lately he's been a million times worse for some reason, and last night was an absolute fiasco.

* * *

_Dinner was a silent time in the Abadeer household. Marceline couldn't find it in herself to complain about that fact, for when her father was quiet, he didn't pester her about every little action he deemed unsuitable. No, on the far end of the imposing table, it was almost possible for her to pretend he wasn't there. Almost — Hunson Abadeer's presence, molded on years an end of public speeches and high-society reunions was too strong to go fully ignored._

_However, her daily routine of pretending her father wasn't there was cut short by questions that couldn't be answered with uninspired grunts — as were met the mandatory "How was your day?" and "Did you have fun at school?"._

_What he said was not that._

_— So, Marceline. — He started, words rolling of his tongue as he spoke in a way that made dinner feel like a business meeting. — I've noticed you still haven't got a boyfriend. Am I right? Her hand involuntarily let go of the fork, making it hit her almost empty plate with a loud clank._

_— What are you talking about? — She roared, unable to believe they were having that conversation again. — I'm gay dad! What part of that is hard for you to understand?_

_— Marceline, dear, I believe we are both aware that is but a phase. — Every word of his made her face go stiffer with rage. — Why don't you agree with one meeting with Jacob's son? Finn is a very nice young man, and I think it would be a good influence on you._

_— I can't! — Why not dear? I'm sure you're not seeing anyone?_

_She was trembling slightly, and there was a lump in her throat ready to jump out. Hearing all that hurt, and she hoped her voice didn't shake much when she said, in a whim:_

_— I'm dating Bonnibel!_

_Being cornered definitely didn't do well for her logical brain._

_Hunson froze, suddenly seeming not all that sure about his prepared speech._ _She could almost see the blood drain from his face, his eyes widening just slightly._

_— Bonnibel? For how long?_

_Well, she truly didn't think that one through, but now the words were out and there was nothing to be done about it._

_— Five months dad! — She exclaimed, hoping to escape being caught in her lie. — Does that sound like a phase to you?_

_Lost, and looking for the words to say, her father spoke again. — If that is true, then maybe you could bring your... girlfriend to dinner next Saturday. — His lips pressed together tight._

_Marceline looked up from her plate to stare at him, wide-eyed. She got up slowly, hoping her legs would be kind enough to support her, and with only a nod, she left the room._

* * *

— And that is why I need you to pretend to be my girlfriend. — She smiled shyly. — My dad was being an ass and I panicked completely.

She was waiting for Bonnie to turn her down, to be offended, astonished, or something. It was a lot to ask of someone.

She definitely wasn't expecting the words that came out of her mouth.

— Fine, I'll do it. — The certainty in her tone not wavering at all. — But do you think keeping it up only untill Saturday will make him leave you alone? Her brain short-circuited. Bonnie wanted to keep it up for... longer than they needed to?

— Maybe not, it makes sense that he will not back down easily. — It definitely did make sense. — It is so not beyond him sending someone to watch me. — It wasn't, and it also was a great argument to shut her rational brain from reminding her this was a recipe for disaster.

— I mean, he has done it once hasn't he? When you threatened to run away?

Marceline winced.

— Yeah, he did, even if that time it was sort of a justified paranoia.

Bonnibel laughed, shaking her head.

— You were six Marcy. — She stopped for a second, looking at her again. — Where did he think you were going?

— For your information, I was a very independent six year old! — She hit her friend with the pillow she was holding. — I could've gotten to Mexico very easily if he hadn't sent someone to stalk me.

Bonnie lifted one of her brows.

— I could!

— Sure.

— Hey! Have a little faith in me, princess!

Marceline still felt really stupid as she hit her friend's leg light-heartedly with the pillow again, the discussion slowly shifting onto a pillow fight.

She felt even more stupid when she lost, Bonnie's strong arms holding her down playfully. The soft hair falling on her face made her ticklish, and still her eyes were drown to the pink mouth, glossy with the lip balm she always carried in her backpack. Imagining how her soft lips would feel against her dry, chapped ones was dangerous territory, and one she especially shouldn't cross given the current situation they were in.

They were close, so close that she could feel Bonnie's unregulated breaths on her face, making her tremble just a little bit. Bonnibel let her go, shifting her body so she was not straddling Marceline with her legs anymore.

Her chest flattened as she let go of a breath she had no idea she was even holding.

It was going to be a difficult couple of days.

* * *

Sitting under a tree on break, Marceline watched as the sun leaked through the green leaves, making the grass underneath glow with a myriad of colors. It was the same appeal the Impressionists once saw, wasn't it? Watching as sunlight changed nature, making it's colors darker and lighter. Colder and warmer. It was the same, under all those layers, but the impression our eyes had was ever-changing.

The shadows suddenly got more prominent than the light, and she looked up to see blue eyes staring at her. She smiled and tapped the place beside her.

— Did Simon finally let you go?

Simon, their History teacher, veemently refused to be called _Mr. Petrikov_. He was probably Marceline's favorite adult ever — comprehensive, ready to help and not pestering her about her life choices? What could be better than that? Of course, aside from that, he was also clumsy — a courtesy of his long, thin limbs — and demanded some help to take everything he needed in class — an assortment of books, a notebook, a remote for the digital board, his pens, and a stuffed penguin the class had affectionately named Gunther — from a room to another.

She let out a short laugh, assenting with her head.

— Marcy, I was thinking about something. — She started. Marceline turned around to face Bonnie, encouraging her to keep going. — If we're really going to do this, we should establish some stuff, shouldn't we? — The look on her face must've been lost, because Bonnie kept going. — You know, the story we're telling, the timelines...

— Oh, you're right. — She frowned. — We should also have some boundaries right? How far we can go to "maintain the illusion". — She made quotation marks with her hands, but the sarcasm in her own voice tasted like venom. Bonnie smiled very little in response.

— I'm fine with whatever you are. I don't think we'll really need to go as far as kissing, but it might be good if your father does end up sending someone to follow you. Marcy laughed, the combination of the words sounded funny, like they were spies, not teenagers trying to deceive a parent.

— Yeah, I think I'm good with that as well. — She wouldn't let her traitorous mind win this once. — I told my dad we've been together for five months, but he doesn't know more than that.

— Do you think he will ask? Like how we got together?

— Most definitely. — She stood up, her ripped jeans softening their grip around her leg. — I'm pretty sure he still thinks I'm full of shit.

— Well, you _are_.

— I am. — She laughed. — But I will not give him the pleasure of figuring that out.

As if on cue, the bell rang. She held out her hand for Bonnie. The pink-haired girl gladly took it, tapping her pink overall dress to clean it from any wayward grass.

— We have been dating for five months. — She said, taking Marceline's hand in hers as they walked to class. — And how have we gotten together?

— Well, do you remember...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again! This fic is the result of me being petty - and also my inconformity towards the lack of fake relationship fics with Bubbline. I'll say those were surprisingly good motivators for my creativity, and I'm glad with the result!
> 
> The title obviously comes from the girl in red's song "I wanna be your girlfriend", and I thought it would be fitting.
> 
> Also, in a quick note: this was supposed to be a very short one-shot, but as I was writing it I realized it wouldn't really be as good as I wanted it to be if it remained just that.  
> (Alternatively: the fic got out of control and all I could do was go with it.) 
> 
> Hope you enjoy this fic as much as I did!
> 
> Addition made in 11/23: I made some edits to this fic because at the time I had written it I didn't realize Marceline should not be white in a Human!AU. The only alterations made were to the very few descriptions of her skin color.


	2. like flowers and blue skies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marceline is about lose it completely, and Bonnibel needs help in the lab. Planning and pining ensues.

It was Wednesday already, and Marceline was getting more anxious by the minute.

Besides being aware this was a bad idea, she was scared her father wouldn't be fooled, and she wouldn't be able to escape another one of his stupid blind dates. The stress was getting to her, and on top of that she had tests coming her way. She flopped onto her bed, accidentally slamming her head against the wall.

Wincing, she massaged the area. She wanted to scream onto the void and never stop. Her pillow was the next best thing. She stopped for a second, swearing she had heard the faintest noise coming from her phone. Getting up, she realized she was right.

The screen was on, creating a dome of light inside the dark room. It was Bonnie.

**Want to come over the lab this Friday?**

(00:34)

**Maybe we can arrange the strategy for dinner**

(00:35)

_sure_

(00:35)

_pick me up fr practice?_

(00:35)

**That can be arranged :)**

(00:38)

* * *

And that was how she ended up in Bonnie's car, sweaty, tired, and not looking forward to a whole evening of sitting there and watching her mess around with chemistry experiments she couldn't begin to understand. She liked spending time with her friend, but right now she was just incredibly tired, and her hands hurt from playing her guitar for too long — she could've taken breaks, of course, but who said she thought of that when her mind was somewhere else? The soft seats were a blessing though.

— Princess, what are you doing today? — She asked her, who looked far hotter than it was reasonable while driving. Bonnie gave her a look. — Don't get me wrong, I don't really want to know. But why did you ask me to come?

— Well, I just figured I could use an assistant. Finn is out today for some personal reasons.

— Wait, you want me to help you? Like for real? Are you crazy? She laughed at Marceline's shock.

— Relax, you don't need to know anything to help me around. — She parked the car in one of the lab's reserved parking spots. The white building beyond them gave off a threatening aura, in Marceline's perspective. She pretended to shudder. — And besides all that, —Bonnie continued. — You kind of owe me a couple of favors, don't you? — Her smile got snarkier. — Being a good fake girlfriend is demanding a lot of me, you know? It would truly be sorrowful if I were to slip in front of Hunson, wouldn't it?

— You will _not_ blackmail me! Bonnie lifted one of her eyebrows.

— Are you sure of that? — She said, walking faster in the direction of the building.

Marcy just growled, picking up her pace to get behind Bonnie.

* * *

— Just so you know, I hate you. — Marceline said, balancing four cups of coffee in her hand. Of course, only one cup was hers. The rest were all Bonnie's addiction: dark coffee with no sugar or milk in it. None at all.

— Love you too babe. — Bonnibel said mockingly, putting her pink hair up in a bun. Marceline's face turned into a scowl.

— I still have no idea how in hell you can drink that. — She sipped on her sugary concossion. The cinnamon lattes were the only thing with coffee she ever drank.

— You just have a childish taste Marcy. — She turned around. — These lattes are going to give you diabetes one day.

— Not likely. — Marceline huffed. — But I wouldn't put myself above some visits to the dentist.

They stayed comfortably silent for a couple minutes. Bonnie extended her hand, signaling for Marceline to get her second cup of coffee. Suddenly, a thought went through Marceline's head.

— Hey, Bonnie. — She said, having given her friend the coffee. — Isn't drinking in the lab completely against that "lab safety" bullshit? She still remembered the lecture she got that day she got out her trusty red lollipop.

— _Maybe._ — She said, somber. It was probably better not to question her friend right now. Focused Bonnie could be... a bit scary.

The solution she found for not disturbing her was sitting back in her own chair, far away from the table where the girl was working. It was honestly very easy to just get lost in staring at Bonnie. She absolutely adored those moments where she was preoccupied with something, her hair up, a couple rebel strands insisting on falling in front of her face. The delicate, golden frame of her glasses making her seem more mature. The concentrated look on her face motivated by whatever was also making her hold her bottom lip in between her teeth. It was mesmerizing. Or maybe she just liked the owner of those expressions too much. Her thoughts were interrupted by a voice calling her softly.

— Marcy? Come help me here for a moment. She stood up, going where she was summoned.

— You just need to hold this while I stir. — She grabbed a pair of plastic gloves. — Put these on first. And that she did. Bonnie stirred the transparent liquid. The smell of it was far from pleasant, and she truly did not want to know what it was. It was best for her blood pressure not to.

She stopped paying attention for one moment, but was brought back to it when she felt a sharp pain on her arm, making her hiss out loud.

Before she could even notice what happened, Bonnie was up and grabbing a tissue, wich she carefully swiped on her skin. — I'm sorry dear. — She said, her voice small.

— My hand slipped and it made some of the substance spill out on you. — Her face was just as apologetic. — The burn you felt was probably the sodium hypochlorite's fault, but it shouldn't do more than leave your skin a bit red. Marceline said nothing, pursing her lips. — Marcy? — Bonnibel inquired, blue eyes looking right at her black ones. — Are you alright?

— I'm fine princess. Really. — She said, not putting much sincerity behind it. It was better than saying "Whenever you worry about me it makes my chest hurt." so she just conformed to her original statement.

— Are you sure?

She just nodded.

— If that's the case, then I think we probably should leave. — Bonnie said, organizing her desk and cleaning everything up. — I'm a bit distracted today.

The look on her face was one Marceline had yet to become acquainted to.

* * *

On the way back home, Marceline realized something.

— We didn't actually discuss anything about what we're doing today.

— Oh. — Bonnie said, not seeming very surprised by their forgetfulness. — So, want to go through it all again?

— Yep. — She turned to the window, for looking at the object of her affection would be too painful.

— We've been together for five months. You still remember the way we got together? I'm pretty sure he'll want to drill you on that. — I do. — Marceline felt the blue eyes pierce the back of her head. — Our relationship is serious, sir. — Bonnie said the rehearsed speech Marceline had approved. — I am looking forward to staying with your daughter for as long as she'll have me. — The words dug into Marceline's chest, suddenly all too much for her to handle. They sounded too real, and hope was not supposed to set in. — My life is planned for the foreseeable future, and I would love for Marceline to be a part of it.

— That does sound good. — Marceline all but managed to choke out, hoping her friend didn't notice the strain in her voice.

Finally allowing herself to look back, she noticed Bonnie's eyes weren't on her anymore. Instead, they looked straight ahead, even though they weren't moving anymore.

She thought her eyes looked shinier than usual as they reflected the setting sun.

She brushed those thoughts away. She was just looking too much into things.

* * *

The dreadful Friday before the dinner came quickly.

It was slowly dawning on them that the situation was very real, and they woudn't escape it easily. So, they decided, the best thing to do would be pick an outfit Hunson would find respectable.

Hence, Marceline found herself rummaging through her — fake — girlfriend's closet in search for the right thing. Hunson meant business with his dinners, and even if the intentions of this one sounded much simpler — truly, taking you significant other to meet your parents shouldn't be this dramatic —, Hunson would never see it that way.

Finally, she found something that made her satisfied. It was a beautiful blue dress that Marceline was very fond of. An exception in her closet, so very different from the usual tones of pink. It was the dress she wore on the day Marceline realized she was more fond of her friend than she should be.

* * *

_The fake crystals hanging all around the room glittered. It was... stunning._

_She still thought the theme of "Winter Wonderland" suggested by Simon, who was organizing the Prom Comitee was very cliché, but she would be lying if she said the appeal was lost on her. Still, it wasn't the thing that made her breath get caught on her throat._

_No, what did it was something much prettier than anything the decoration scattered across the walls could accomplish. It was Bonnibel, wearing a long but simple blue gown that framed her upper body, flowing freely when it got to her waist. The sleeves fell off her shoulders, and the extra fabric framed her bosom very delicately. It was an effort not to swoon, but she was succesful._

_Bonnie's eyes fell on her, and Marceline was taken aback by a sudden self-conciousness about the suit she had chosen to wear. Was her tie ugly? Maybe the light blue was too much._

_Her friend smiled, and her troubles scattered, flying far away from her. The only thing she could think about was that smile._

_She extended her hand, once she got close enough, in a manner she had grown accustomed to during the last two years._

_But this time was different, wasn't it?_

_Upon hearing the soft music that started playing, she was sure of that._

_— Would you give me this dance? Bonnie's smile grew bigger, and later Marceline would tell you she was shining._

_— Most definitely._

_From that point forward, Marceline's memory of the night was a blur. Adrenaline was rushing through her veins, and her eyes could only focus on the girl holding her in her arms._

_They twirled and twirled around the room, not letting go of each other the entire night._

_If Marceline were braver, maybe they would have kissed that night. But she wasn't._

_Consequently, that wish stayed just that. A wish, deep in her heart._

* * *

She let go of the dress. It was too personal. It made her think of what could've been.

Instead, she opted for a champagne dress. It was delicate - of course it was, what wasn't in Bonnie's closet? - with long, puffy tulle sleeves and details in lace, but still serious enough to cause a good impression on her dad. Or so she hoped. She turned around, showing Bonnie her choice.

— A dress fit for a princess, don't you think? Bonnie blushed at that, and Marceline's heart was ready to jump off her chest.

— I guess. — Bonnie continued. — But what are you wearing, oh noble gentleman?

— Shut up. — Marceline said, tempted to throw the dress she was holding on her friend's face.

— Try me. 

Marceline took that as a challenge, jumping onto the bed to take advantage of her greatest weakness: Bonnibel was very ticklish. And Marceline loved to see her laugh, complaining but ultimately making to effort to run away.

At a certain point both of them got too tired, Marceline falling right on the left side of the bed, which remained unoccupied. Bonnibel turned to stare at her, face still flushed, and hair all over the place. She lifted her hand, placing it on Marceline's face, and there they stayed untill both fell asleep.

Ultimately, that day couldn't have ended in any other way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! I'd just like to say I have no idea about anything related to chemistry, so if I said anything wrong here, correct me and I'll change it!
> 
> I hope everyone is liking this fic so far, because it totally became my baby really quick.


	3. i will follow you home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The dinner comes quicker than Marceline had hoped it would, and with it, a plethora of surprises.

Marceline stared at herself in the mirror.

She had probably tried twenty different outfits, but she just couldn't pick one. It was getting late — and looking back, it probably was a terrible idea leaving it to the last minute, but she was just _so_ nervous.

At last, it was the culmination of her and Bonnie's — very, very fake — relationship, and it was honestly terrifying. Although Bonnie had said they should keep it going for at least a while more, she was incredibly aware of how bad of an idea that was. At least for herself, and her treacherous heart that just wouldn't let their ridiculous hopes go - even more now, that she was so close to having what she wanted, but so far away from it at the same time.

The clock standing on her table beeped, a dire warning that she definitely had spent way too much time feeling sorry for herself.

The red dress she had on would have to do. There was barely enough time for her to get the pantyhose and shoes she usually wore with this dress.

From downstairs, she heard voices that indicated her tardiness.

Had she been a bit more aware of her surroundings at the moment, she would have realized those voices were male - and she also would have noticed Bonnie hadn't texted her about her arrival yet.

But she wasn't, and so she didn't.

As a result, it was more than a bit of a shock when she went down the stairs, only to see a blond boy — probably younger than her by just a few years — and a man with dirty blond hair. He didn't look like the kid at all, but she assumed it must've been his father— because, well, it was not the first time her dad decided to surprise her with dinner with one of his business associates and their dumbass sons.

She recollected herself, repeating "Bonnie is coming, don't worry." in her head over and over, like a mantra.

She could scream at Hunson later. She _would_ scream at him later.

Going down the stairs, in a rhythm carefully orchestrated so she could delay the painful introductions and small talk, she felt her phone vibrate in her hand.

Oh thank god. Bonnie was here.

Not bothering to look at her dad or the two unnamed men sitting in the couch, she went straight to the door.

The weight in her chest finally surrendered, and she leaned over to hug Bonnibel. During the hug, she thought better to warn her of the new developments. Not bothering to push her momentaneous girlfriends hair out of the way, as it was half up in braids that circled her head — making her look, well, regal in Marceline's eyes —, she whispered.

— My dad apparently still thinks I'm full of shit, and it seems he maintained the invitation to the dude he was trying to set me up with.

She felt Bonnie tense up under her arms, but none of her next moves would indicate that. She let go of Marceline, giggling like what just happened was just a lovely declaration.

— So, will you officially introduce me as your girlfriend to Mr. Abadeer?

— Of course. - She interlaced their hands, shaking just enough for Bonnibel to notice, squeezing her hand in a comforting gesture.

The moment they turned around, Hunson was already there. He could easily be a statue, emotionless like soft marmor.

It was disturbing, seeing the face so devoid of... anything, if she was being honest. But it was probably even more disturbing to see the fake smile on his face. A smile that showed how much her father was actually surprised by Bonnibel showing up. By Marceline having told him the truth, at least in his perspective.

He held out his hand for Bonnibel to shake.

— Hello, Miss Bubblegum. I believe you are the _partner_ my daughter has spoken so fondly about.

— I believe so Mr. Abadeer. — She shook his hand, her grip strong. Marceline supposed that was a way to cause a good impression, although her dad was already familiar with her. — It's nice to finally be introduced as that. — Bonnie's smile probably looked soft to an outsider. Glad, even. But not to Marceline, who was close enough to be able to see the familiar flame of anger burning behind her friends eyes.

He stepped away, at last giving them a clear view of the dining room.

Bonnie froze when she saw who was sitting at the couch.

Her dad coughed slightly, in a way to attract attention.

— Well, I should introduce you to our guests. — He turned, to be seen clearly by all four people in the room. — This is Jacob Cardoso, an associate of mine, and his son, Finn Cardoso-Campbell. Jacob, Finn, this is my daughter and her... — He paused, again, considering what to say. — Her friend, Bonnibel Bubblegum.

The next person who spoke wasn't her, with her fake greetings - taught to her by her father from a young age - or Bonnie, her voice steady as always.

It was Finn.

— Hm, we are actually familiar with, hm, Bonnibel, Mr. Abadeer. — He sounded nervous, but she wondered whether it was her father's presence or just the way he was. — She works in my mother's lab. — He shifted, and now refered to them. — But it's nice to meet you, Marceline. Good to see you again Bubblegum.

His father now spoke.

— It's very nice to meet you Miss Abadeer. — He turned to Bonnie. — I'm glad to see you again, Miss Bubblegum. Minerva has been extremely excited about your new project.

Bonnibel blushed, but Marceline just... stayed there. Confused and a little bit shell-shocked. Bonnie's lab assistant was the son of one of her father's work friends?

— It's nice to her that, Mr. Campbell. — There was a different tone to her voice. — Nice to see you here Finn.

Now, Hunson was a different situation. He looked even more surprised than Marceline — like the ceiling had just fell on his head. It was funny, the expression on his face was straight out of a tasteless comedy.

Marceline realized they would probably stay there for a while if she didn't do anything about it. Clasping her hands together, she announced:

— Why don't we go to the table? I'm sure my father ensured a nice dinner was prepared.

That seemed to snap her dad out of it. Thankfully. The raven-haired girl would not keep acting as host all night, she didn't trust her capabilities to keep that appearance up for very long.

* * *

A while into what was an incredibly awkward dinner, Hunson finally decided to employ his set of "dad questions" directed to Bonnibel.

— So, Miss Bubblegum. — He started, not looking all that at ease, and the hesitation was practically palpable. — How did you and my daughter get together? I assume this development must've been a surprise. — He grinned, his teeth, pointy like his daughter's, giving the gesture a feeling of meanness.

Marceline let out a breath. They had practiced that question. They were good for now.

She went over it in her own mind.

"Actually, Marcy was the one who made the first move."

— Oh, well. — She hesitated a little bit, in what Marceline assumed was her trying to remember the story.

"She asked me to go with her to the Carnival."

— It actually happened at the ball, last year. — She sounded certain, but Marceline felt like she was going to faint. Why was Bonnie changing their plan just now?

— Oh, I do remember that. — He nodded. — I was actually quite surprised Marceline decided to go.

— So was I when she said it sir. — Bonnie... joked? With her dad? — I hadn't actually realised I felt more than just friendship for Marcy until I saw her that night. — Marceline's chest throbbed, so strong she felt like everyone at the table could hear it. — She was just, standing there, in that suit, the blue and the crystals surrounding her. It hit me then, that she was more to me. — She continued, still holding herself with sureness. — It was just a natural progression then.

— You know, your story reminds me of how I fell in love with Marceline's mother. — He now turned to the rest of the table, referring to Finn and Jacob as well. — Have I ever told you...

Marceline didn't hear the rest. Actually, she didn't hear anything else for the rest of the night. It all blurred out, and her head kept repeating what she heard Bonnibel say. Why would she ever choose _that_ as her cover up story?

She had to keep choking back the tightness in her neck, taking hold of her in an almost suffocating way. Had Bonnibel noticed her staring at the dress? Had she figured it out? Was she making a joke out of Marceline?

It didn't take long for her breath to catch. It took even less for Bonnie's hand to fall into hers, holding her delicately.

It only managed to make it worse.

After way too long, everyone was leaving, and Marceline didn't have it in her to look at Bonnie's face. She stood there, in the doorway. They said their goodbyes. Bonnie kissed her forehead, maybe lingering for too long — or was it too little? — but Marcy wouldn't know. She was too lost in the labyrinth of her own mind to notice that, or the way Bonnie's eyes never left her, not for one second.

She ran up to her room, cursing the day she ever had the idea of pretending to date Bonnie. She held Hambo close, crying into the once pink fur. The lasting button hurt her face, but she couldn't care about that right now. It just seemed so... real. She wanted to rip her heart out of her chest. It just hurt too much, a strong, pinching pain that just wouldn't leave. The sobs kept coming out, and she held Hambo's long limbs so tight it hurt.

She didn't even realize she had fallen asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again! 
> 
> This chapter was a quicker one to write, but it does come packed with surprises. What did you think about it? Did Finn being The Dude surprise you? Was Bonnie's reveal even that? 
> 
> I'd love to know what your thoughts are!


	4. although my lips are blue and cold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bonnibel and Marceline are not good at communicating. Jake and Raini decide to give them a small push.

The next week was inevitably awkward. Marceline wouldn't talk to Bonnibel, who in return would look miserable for the rest of the day.

As much as Marceline hated seeing her friend like that, she also had a lot of her own sadness clouding her mind.

She externalized it in irritability.

Maybe snapping at people for no reason wasn't the right thing to do.

But she wasn't really giving it much thought, was she?

It went on for a couple of days, and everyone around them seemed to have become annoyed by it, especially their friends. It was fair, honestly, they were either having to deal with an angry Marceline or a moping Bonnibel, and it was getting old really fast. Raini and Jake decided they had to do something to fix it.

Whatever "it" was. They didn't really know, having just come back to town.

Raini just assumed it was communication issues. Her boyfriend just shrugged and went with it.

Raini sat down next to Marceline on break, wearing her usual smile. She laid her head on Jake's shoulders, colorful strands falling to the side like a kaleidoscope, and said:

— Marcy, I think Simon's looking for you.

— Do you know why?

Raini just shaked her head.

— I'm going then. — She got up, not bothering to grab her leather jacket, wich was hanging on the back of the chair. She would probably be back in a few minutes.

But it was not Simon that met her.

It was pink hair.

* * *

Bonnie looked just as horrified when she turned around after hearing the door to the classroom open. She definitely wasn't expecting Marceline.

They stared at each other for a second.

Then the door locked. From the outside.

— You two are not coming out of there until you work things out!

It was Jake's voice.

They had set her up.

A groan came out of Marceline's mouth involuntarily. She decided to just sit on the ground, her back to the wall.

They could be in here for a while.

* * *

It turned out that it didn't matter how much she hoped for the contrary, Bonnibel still sat by her side. Maybe some cosmic entity of irony was bored, or maybe she pissed a god off - although these were not the most likely options, she wasn't very willing of letting any one of them go, because if she did, the only other left was the most jarring: Bonnie wanted to talk to her.

She was so close their shoulders were touching. So close she could feel the soft wool of Bonnie's sweater tickle her bare arm, in a familiar yet foreign feeling. So close she could smell Bonnie's sweet perfume, could feel it begin to make her mind go awry, to places she just couldn't let herself drift off to right now.

Way too close for it to be healthy for her heart.

They stayed there, basking in the silence of the room as much as they could. It was a piece of normalcy, an occurence so very common in their friendship. Only the silence wasn't comfortable this time. It didn't wrap itself around Marceline like a warm blanket, a reassurance. No, it was heavy and cold, so solid it could be cut with a knife. 

The classroom was unusually cold. Simon has probably left the air conditioning on.

She shivered. Her usually trusty grey tank top was now doing absolutely nothing to shield her from the cold air.

— Marcy? — Bonnibel called out, awfully cautious in a way she had never been around Marceline. It made her chest tighten. — You're shaking. Here take my sweater.

Marceline grunted in response.

—Very mature of you, dear. — Bonnibel mocked. Although it wasn't mean, she still felt like she was being called out on her behavior. Bonnibel had that in her: the power to, very effortlessly sound like a figure of some authority, even to her own peers.

Even without an appropriate answer, Bonnie took off the sweater, her loose hair catching on the neckline and falling around her on a colorful cloud. She handed it to Marceline, her eyes urging the girl to put it on.

And that she did, tuning out her momentaneous stubbornness to turn her focus completely to the cold, the chill that slithered its way through her spine, and the starkly contrasting warmth that she couldn't hope to stop blooming inside her chest.

Perhaps it was all too much for her to handle. Maybe she was just overwhelmed. As it may be, she let the frail brick wall she had constructed to shield herself from... Bonnie, assuming that she was feeling honest and for anything else if she wasn't. And all it took was that one act of kindness that was, by all intents and purposes, a thinly veiled "I care about you, what's wrong?"

Bonnibel looked at her once more, and her eyes bore into her.

A sob she didn't know she was holding escaped her throat, and she cussed out loud, doubling over.

— Hey, Marcy... — Bonnibel started, kindly. Her hand was on Marceline's back in a matter of seconds, rubbing gentle circles like she would on the days Marceline's home and family felt like everything but, and yet Bonnie's arms were her shelter.

Another sob.

— Try to focus on me dear. — She said, still trying to instill some calm onto her friend. — You're alright, I'm here with you. Can you look at me? 

Marceline shook her head as enfatically as she could. She was too embarrassed to even try to look at Bonnibel.

— That's okay, I'll stay right here untill you want to. Alright?

The response that came out of Marceline's mouth was mumbled by her arms, that surrounded her head tight. It was still discernible for Bonnie.

— Alright. 

Seconds unfolded like hours, and the situation dawned upon her slowly. She had to talk to Bonnibel, she was acutely aware of that fact — the thought didn't, by any means, make it less terrifying.

— Why did you say that to my father? — She blurted out at last. The words sounded accusatory once they were out, and they probably meant nothing to Bonnibel. She recollected herself, ready to explain what she meant. 

The look in Bonnie's eyes stopped her before she could do it.

She looked hurt.

And Marceline had no idea why.

— Because... — Bonnie's voice was strained in a way Marceline had witnessed very few times since they met. Bonnibel was the strong one, she was calm, collected. She wasn't supposed to be a mess, not like Marceline usually was. But she looked like a mess. — Because I just wanted it to be true so bad.

— I... — Bonnie hushed her.

— Before you say anything just... let me finish, okay?

Marceline nodded, all of a sudden feeling disconnected from her reality. Like what she was experiencing was barely a fever dream.

It wasn't though, if the cold, hard floor making her lower back hurt was anything to go by.

Bonnibel continued.

— That day... it meant a lot to me, you know? — Bonnie kept looking away, apparently focused on not letting her eyes travel to Marceline. — You were just standing, but the room around gave you something of an ethereal appearance, you know? — She laughed bitterly to herself at that. — It's just... it sounds cliché when I say it out loud, but it's the best I can describe it. You looked like an angel out there, and it made me feel like my mouth was way too far from yours, like I just _had_ to push you into a wall and kiss you. It made me want to hold you and never let you go. — She stopped again, seeming even more uncertain now then when she begun talking. — I'm sorry. I know you can't...

Marceline turned to Bonnie, who was still keen on looking at the walls.

No words she knew were able to describe the mix of euphoria and puzzlement properly. Nothing would be fit for it.

Instinctively, her hand traveled to Bonnibel's chin. For a moment, it just sat there, feeling the warmth radiate from hot skin to cold skin, untill they showed no sign of ever being different. Before she knew it, she was pressing slightly, in a call for Bonnie to turn around. To look at her, for once.

— Princess, please. — She urged. — Look at me.

It was a fruitless effort.

— I'll say it anyway. I have to. — She breathed deeply. — You have no idea how many times I dreamt about you saying those words. — At last, Bonnie turned around, her eyes wide and darkened. — I love you Bonnie. I think have since I first met you. Seeing you look perfect around those lights just pushed me to realize it as well.

For a second, they were both very still. Bonnibel's eyes looked wider than before, and Marceline feared she had gotten it all wrong.

Then Bonnie's mouth covered hers, and her mind completely emptied. She could only be aware of the warm lips upon hers, the soft bites that were placed on her lower lip, delicate but wanting. Her whole body trembled with desire and realization.

Bonnibel split them away for a moment. Both were panting hard.

— I love you too you idiot. — She smiled fondly, and Marceline smiled back before taking Bonnie's mouth.

It was not the best kiss in the world. It was sloppy, overeager, and Marceline could call herself anything but experienced — she knew it was the same for Bonnie — but for them, at that moment, it was everything they could ever wish for.

They stood apart once again, their foreheads touching, the world for once falling into place as the clouds outside gave way for a timid ray of sunshine to claim its place illuminating the front of the classroom.

Words were completely lost, and the effort to find them once again was not one anyone was willing to make.

For once, Marceline didn't regret the choices that led her here, to this moment.

The bell rang outside, the usually shrill sound eased by the closed door, and Bonnie got up first, extending her head to help Marceline.

She took it, utilizing the level to place a quick kiss on Bonnie's mouth.

— Does this mean you're my real girlfriend now? — She asked, playfully.

— I should hope it does love.

At that moment, the happiness on Bonnibel's face became Marceline's sun and stars. Nothing could ever begin to challenge the way it made her warm. She couldn't fathom anything comparing to it.

She smiled once again, taking hold of her girlfriend's hand.

Maybe Marceline was stupid.  
Only, she really didn't feel that way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this is the end! This story developed so much further than what my original plan was, but it was amazing writing it. It's the longest thing I've written fully in English and I'm incredibly proud of it.
> 
> I really hoped you enjoyed it!


End file.
